Hogwarts Asylum
by Trigiani Blue
Summary: Hogwarts Asylum, a mad-house for underaged boys and girls. It's a dark place, one from which everyone will attempt to escape. Full of it's own dramas and gossip, Hogwarts Asylum beats your average high school... because it's full of crazies. Various ships


**Hogwarts Asylum**

_Prologue_

Albus Dumbledore, head of the Hogwarts Asylum, a sanitarium for underage lunatics –for lack of a nicer word—was sitting on his desk, the crease between his eyebrows growing more prominent by the day, his almost-entirely gray hair dotted here and there with it's previous auburn color. His piercing eyes were raking a piece of paper from behind half-moon spectacles. It was the admission sheet of yet another child who had been sentenced there.

This one was only sixteen years old. Tom Marvolo Riddle, the latest addition to the asylum, was a recent convict. His name had made the headlines from London to New York, to the east block, a nasty article following it. Albus couldn't remember the exact content of the article but the main point of it had been that Tom had murdered around two-hundred people, claiming he was some sort of Dark Lord named Voldemort. The boy had been rushed to the closest psychiatric clinic and had had tests performed upon him. The doctors had agreed that Tom was suffering from a very violent case of schizophrenia and he had escaped jail by a thread.

Albus felt for the boy, an asylum was a sentence much worse than jail.

A knock on the door interrupted Albus' dark thoughts. As the door opened, Minerva McGonagall, his deputy, poked her head in.

"Dr. Dumbledore, I am here to report on the new boy's installments and behavior," the woman said.

She was quite willowy-looking, with her hair always neatly knotted on the top of her head, her bones showing through her pallid skin and her clothes that were always a bit too large. In her hands she was clutching a clipboard, her green eyes turning worried as she surveyed the deep lines of his face.

"Thank you, Minerva," the man said, taking off his glasses for a moment and pinching the bridge of his nose tightly, as if hoping it would relieve the stress and horridness of his job.

He knew it didn't, of course.

Minerva seated herself in one of the stuffy armchairs in front of her chief's desk, handing him the clipboard. As Albus looked at the statistics with a critical eye, Minerva let her eyes wander over the familiar office.

It wasn't big, but it was homey and warm, two qualities the clinical white of the rest of the place didn't posses. The room was orientally furnished, in warm browns, sunny yellows, dim oranges and reds and happy greens. A few multicolored tapestries hung on the wall, one particularly abstract drawing hanging on the inside of his door. Minerva suspected that it was done by a patient here, Dean Thomas, who was suffering from an out-of-control form of ADHD, drawing being the only thing that could calm him down. The room smelled strongly of incense. Minerva took a deep breath of the strongly-scented spice and turned her eyes back on Albus. The yellow tassel of his fez was hanging into his eyes. He was quite a handsome man, Minerva had always found, a bit distant and dark in a way but dependable, good, loving and feeling all the same. It was a topic of wonder around the asylum why he'd taken such a hard, emotionally draining job. _But then again_, the woman thought, _it seems to_ _suit his personality_.

"Maybe I should check on him, see how he's settling."

"And maybe you should just rest, Albus. Having more gray hairs than brown at mid-fifty is not all that normal."

"Auburn," Dumbledore corrected her and stood up. His white vest was unbuttoned, giving way to an oriental toga underneath. He made his exit without as much as a nod to her.

"Auburn it is then," the woman got up and went to check on a few more patients before her shift was over.

**-:-:-:-:- Page breaker -:-:-:-:-**

Tom lay on his bed, murky blue eyes starring above into the white nothingness of the ceiling. But he wasn't Tom now. He was Lord Voldemort and he was triumphant. All his crazy actions had gotten him exactly where he wanted, to exactly who he wanted. A joyful feeling of conquer began spreading over him, from head to toe, as he started laughing maniacally.

That vile boy would be his alright, Harry James Potter would pay for all the wrong things he'd done to both Tom and Voldemort. He would pay in the worst way possible. But not now. Soon… as soon and Lord Voldemort had had a little fun with those loons.

Tom's pale hand splayed open, palm facing upwards. After a second of concentration, the boy's body heat started swirling and twining until from it was born a small flame.

Just then, a knock on the door startled the fire into extinguish.

"Come in," a voice came from the inside. Tom's voice, cold and clear as opposed to Voldemort's which was deep and edgy.

**-:-:-:-:- Page breaker -:-:-:-:-**

A.N. And I'm back guys! This idea just kinda popped into my head and I said 'Oh, to Hell with it, I'm writing it' and in my opinion it turned out pretty good XD. I don't think there is any other fanfic that is about madhouses, and if there is…well, we think alike :P.

Tell me what you think and also give me ideas for pairings, since there will be romance, drama and other teenage stuff. Not even sanitariums are protected from teenage hormones, I'll give you that!

~Deliya =]


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